


Not Mine To Keep

by aqueentorattlestars



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Angst, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-01
Updated: 2017-10-01
Packaged: 2019-01-07 17:18:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12237279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aqueentorattlestars/pseuds/aqueentorattlestars
Summary: Elain makes her advance towards Azriel. Lucien grapples with his love for Elain and the romance that she has started with Azriel. There is a possible continuation for this.





	Not Mine To Keep

She heard him approaching before she saw him; his scent wafting in the air, filling her nostrils. Dark voices curled around her mind, tongues wagging like lashes—should she do this? Was it right? It was far from proper, far from acceptable from her society’s standards. Yet… She was no longer human. Fae played by an entirely different set of rules when it came to matters of the heart.

  
“Elain?” His voice cut through the lulled quiet of the gardens. The fading light of the evening sun silhouetted the Illyrian; god-like in appearance, wings haloed by glorious shades of gold.

A breath was let loose, the gentlest of sighs that was not missed by the spymaster. His shadows whispered in his ear; weaving tales that something disturbed the fawn. Disturbed? No… Not disturbed. Agitated? Perhaps that was the better word for it. She was nervous about something and it involved him. Instinctively, Azriel clasped scarred hands behind his back to hide them from brown eyes that deserved to see only beauty.

The female rose from the bench. Slowly, gently a smile curved onto full lips as she closed the distance between herself and the Illyrian. “You came,” she said, amazed he had found the time to entertain her invitation.

  
For her alone, his shadows drew back. She was the sun; warm and bright, pushing back the shadows and showing the true face of a male with secrets. Yet… Without her sun, his shadows could not exist. His smile reached his eyes while he bowed his head, “Of course. I enjoy my time spent with you, Elain.” Truth was inlayed in his words. Secrets and shadows held no place around Elain. Worry creased his brow while he observed her quietly, concern hedging his tone while the male asked, “Are you alright, Elain?”

Her palms were slick with sweat as nerves coiled and hissed inside her; don’t do it, don’t do it… He loves another. It was wrong. Wrong what she wanted, wrong what she was going to do. It had been three years since the war. Three years of building a friendship, building trust, and allowing her heart to fall for his. But an untamed heart can be reckless—and sometimes harmful to those closest to you. It was time to take a risk; Elain’s heart demanded it.

  
Azriel saw her when no one else did. He made sense of her riddles and babblings and brought to light a gift from the Cauldron. A tortured soul who could still care… Offered her the greatest gift of all. He gave her kindness.  
But his heart belonged to another in the most poetic of tragedies: unrequited love.  
“I wanted to show you something…” she uttered, voice quavering while doe-brown eyes looked down to the petals that tossed in a gentle breeze along the ground.

“Have the roses blossomed yet?”

Elain smoothed her hands flat against her dress, palms itching for action as she responded, “Well, yes… Sort of.” The Illyrian could only offer a puzzled expression before Elain started to lift the hem of her skirts.

His blood boiled and iced, alternating between the two as the fawn he had grew to love lifted the clothing higher and higher. Cauldron boil him, he should not be looking… But she was the siren in the midst of an ocean, singing his resolve to a watery grave. “Elain,” Azriel choked out, trying to protest but the sound died in his throat.

“Please,” she whispered, hidden in the alcove of the garden. The hem of her dress came to her hip; white lace of undergarments a teasing sight. Yet, that was not what caught the spymaster’s eyes.

Silence enveloped Azriel. His eyes roved over the most beautiful artwork he had ever seen; flowers blossomed to life along her thigh. Roses, sunflowers, delicate vines covered from hip to mid thigh—as if they had been plucked from the garden they tended together and fused into soft flesh.  
“What do you think?”  
Drawn from his thoughts, Azriel could not tear his eyes away from the tattoo while he spoke, “It’s beautiful…” The limb acted without thought. His hand reached out to investigate, wanting to caress. Wings shifted and adjusted as he dropped to a knee.

  
Scarred hands touched along her thigh, fingers brushing against the delicate lines of the tattoo. Upon seeing the contrast of her beauty and his ugliness, he yanked his hand back and hissed at his own stupidity to fathom the touch would be wanted. His wrist was caught by her hand. Panic welled in his heart while he looked up to a face so heartbreakingly beautiful, ready to allow Elain any punishment she might seek to give him for the offense.

There was no malice in her eyes. No disgust. No reproach.  
It was… Something different.  
No female had looked at him like this before.

“I want you to,” she said, somehow finding the strength to admit her desires, “I want you, Azriel. I… I love you.” Bottom lip quivered and the floodgates of her soul opened up, “I have loved you for awhile now. I know your heart belongs to another—I know you have loved her for centuries. Loved her so fiercely. I cannot ask for you to return my love. I cannot ask you to accept my love; but it’s there, Azriel. It’s there. All of it. My heart, my soul; it’s yours.” Elain took a stand of defiance, the delicate flower looking down to the dangerous shadow knelt before her, “I refuse to stop loving you. Yell, scream, hide, terrorize me if you want—but I won’t stop. I love you—”

“Elain, stop—”  
“—I love you for you, Azriel. I love your kindness. I love your smile. I love that you see in others what no one else would be able to. I love yours scars. I love your shadows—”

“Elain—”  
“No, don’t you tell me what to do. I love you. You’re not going to scare me out of loving you—”  
Words failed her and Elain gasped in disbelief when his lips pressed a slow, loving kiss against the center of the flowers. The languid kisses trailed further up her thigh, stopping when his nose brushed against the white lace. Only then did he pull away, looking up at the rose in a valley of thorns, “I love you too.”  
All it took was those four words for their worlds to explode. It was madness, yet beautiful. Azriel was on his feet swiftly, his mouth slanting over Elain’s as tongues danced in a heartfelt kiss. Shadow and sunshine blending, souls twining together and weaving a thread of love so strong between two hearts.

It was there, in the garden as the last rays of sunlight faded beyond the horizon, that they made love.  
Lucien had sought out Elain the following morning. The bond called to him, whispered him close to the female that had captured his heart.

She reminded him of spring—the fond memories of blooming flowers, thick perfume wafting through the air. Beautifully innocent and new to the world. There was only the wish in Lucien’s heart to love her, admire her, and nourish her.

Yet… Fate determined it a lost cause.  
He came from Autumn; a time when all things beautiful died. Green leaves curling up in shades of red, orange, yellow, and lastly to brown. A fawn of spring did not belong to the fading life of fall.

Hope was a fickle thing, however. Hope gave a passing nod to Fate as it continued up a mountain most deemed impossible. Hope guided Lucien by the hand; urging him to hold on to his love. Hope stayed strong. Hope was what led him to purchasing the ring for her; simply because it reminded him of her. Perfect in its beauty. For that was what she was—a beauty. Both inside and out.

It had only taken Lucien getting ten feet from the library where Elain lingered for him to smell it. The shadowsinger’s scent clung to her. Wrapped around her in a protective cocoon, guarding against the death of autumn.

The scent filled his nostrils and overwhelmed him. Barely in control, Lucien reeled back from the room. Leaving silently before Elain noticed him. Hope had been wrong… Hope had made him a fool to believe his mate would want him. He had been the coward that watched on as Tamlin slowly pushed Feyre to death. He had failed her. Failed her because his own trauma held a collar tight around his neck. No… Elain could not, would not accept a mate who could not even defend her sister.  
His life had been a story of sorrow and suffering with rare glimpses of joy hidden beneath the pages. Centuries of grief prepared him for this moment; the moment he realized his mate was in love with another male. Their chapter was coming to a close; short and bittersweet. But it was enough… It was enough to know his mate existed. That his mate was cared for and protected by a male he had come to respect and admire.

Booted steps led him to where the shadowsinger worked. No greeting, no salutations:  
“I have seen what happens when the mating bond is forced,” he said in a nearly inaudible voice, “And that is not the life I want for Elain. Her happiness and heart rests in your hands.” Carefully, he offered the delicate band of gold with diamond leaves to the other male, “I will love her until my last breath. But… She is not mine to keep. Love my mate the way I’ll never be able to.”  
Azriel looked to the ring for a long moment. Thoughts did not betray the spymaster while he shook his head, “Elain deserves all the love this world can offer her. If you love your mate as you say, then give her that love. Give her the love of a friend. She deserves it, Lucien. She deserves to be loved and to love. Romantic, platonic—that is her choice. But if you care for her, do not abandon her. Give her love.”


End file.
